Touch
by roomsbythesea
Summary: A snap-shot of a scene directly following, "Bon Voyage".
1. Touch 1

**Hi! Remember me? I've been rereading lots of my favorite stories lately and managed to dig up some inspiration for this little thing here. I'm calling it a snap shot of a moment I envisioned after "Bon Voyage." In full disclosure, it's a little open ended. Or a lot rather. As a reader, sometimes I get frustrated at open-ended stories because I just want more, so I felt the need to forewarn. That being said, this is another that I may or may not continue. I really wanted to write this scene and I kind of like how it turned out so I wanted to share. Blah, blah, author's note etc. On with it! :)**

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She'd never felt such a pull to be near someone. To touch them on the hand or back or grab their waist and hold on to them forever. It's all she can think about. Touching him. Just holding onto something that's connected to him. Sliding her finger through his jean belt loops and grasping on as he delivers coffee. He was always so good at holding her up, and today, how she wishes she could walk around the counter and have him wrap his arms around her. She just needs the closeness of him right now. Desperate for his physical touch. They're getting back on track, she guesses. Hopes. She knows it's cliche, but she feels so close and yet, so far away from him now.

In terms of football fields, she's not far at all. She's here again. She's back at the diner and he's seems as nervous as her.

Neither of them know where to put these feelings it seems. He had smiled when she had approached the door but it was an odd moment. He had stopped what he was doing and watched every step she took to the door, almost entranced. Almost as if he was worried that if he looked away for a second, she would turn around. And when she had entered, it was like the spell had broken and he had nodded curtly, a tight smile, a small trace of worry lining his eyes. Caesar had announced that an order was up and he turned a couple of times not sure whether to stay or go.

He went.

He bounces now from table to table and she has seated herself at the counter. Though he's currently out of sight, she can feel every movement he makes.

She just wants to make contact with him. Touch him. Hold his hand. Feel the beats of his heart, even if it's his wrist she attaches to. It's magnetic. This feeling makes her anxious and crazy and she realizes that it's causing her to shake her leg frantically on the stool. Joe beside her probably is going to tell her to stop soon. She looks over to Joe, and he smiles nicely but glances at her leg just long enough for her to know that he is annoyed. Good old Joe though, he was trying to overlook it. He frowns. Tried and failed, she amends in her head. She stops her legs.

It has moved to her hands now. They shake a little as she adjusts her purse and fights back the emotions of the day. She needs coffee stat and she can hear Luke telling Reverend Skinner that his food will be out in a minute and she hopes he's coming back to her now. She hopes that when he hands her a cup of coffee that his hand will graze hers, but then, she's not sure she'd ever want to let go. Such a pathetic feeling this is. This need to feel him. She feels vulnerable and weak, but can't think too much about it because her eyes catch him coming around the counter again and grabbing a pot of coffee she's sure is for her.

Usually this would be her cue, but she can't seem to form words so she prepares a smile on her face as he approaches. He takes a deep breath as he grabs a mug, his eyes flitting to hers a few times before he starts the pour.

"She gone?"

"Yep."

"You okay?"

Besides the need to jump across the counter and wrap her hands around his back and bury her head in his neck, she's handling things well. Considering. She knows Rory's leaving hasn't sunk in just yet, but she's a little weak so it may be starting to. She kind of feels like she's floating in the ocean and waves just keep breaking across her body and she can't seem to get a good breath in before the next one comes.

But overall, she's here and he's here and she can hear the coffee pouring into her cup and knows he's about to slide it over to her, so she says, "Yeah."

He nods, like he's not sure what to say next. Maybe like he knows it's not entirely true. She can't read him the way she used to. He's more reserved. More tentative. Like he's not sure she's really here. Like he thinks she may say it was a mistake. Like maybe he thinks it was.

She keeps fingering the necklace around her neck and he can't really look at her for too long she realizes. No buffer. No words. Only feelings and questions and needs. That's all there really is right now.

"Good," he says and slides her the cup. She doesn't reach for it until he's pulled his hand away.

It's the quietest exchange they may have ever had and it's just not enough for her. But she fears that when she opens her mouth to order chocolate chip pancakes and bacon and syrup, it will come out as_ please just take me home._

It's too late to ask for a to-go cup, but the grounding disappointment in not being able to just ask for a second of his time, strains every muscle in her body with dullness and want, that she's not sure how much longer she can sit here. Looking at him not really looking at her. All nerves. All questions and unspoken doubts. When all she really wants is a hug. She wants him to wrap her in his arms like he used to. Whisper things in her ear. Run his hands down her back soothingly.

She would laugh if it didn't seem so ridiculous. Such a simple thing she no longer has the words to ask for.

He smiles at her then. And it's warm and friendly and he opens his mouth and she thinks she knows he's about to say something familiar. It's this moment her phone nearly jumps off the counter vibrating. They both look at it, and then she, back at him. He points to the "No Cell Phones" sign with a frown that she is familiar with, and it dampens the empty feeling a little and warms her insides.

Wordless, she tilts her head towards the door as she grabs her phone with a smile.

Flipping it open, she steps outside.

"Hey Sook."

"Don't be mad."

"Oh, I love it when conversations start that way." Lorelai prepares herself. "What is it, Sookie?"

Sookie anxiously giggling on the other end of the phone does nothing to calm her nerves. She glances back at Luke and he bows his head, suddenly finding a receipt lying on the counter far too interesting. Lorelai takes a few steps away from the diner.

"Out with it. You're killing me here."

Sookie takes a deep breath. "Remember the other day when I was in the kitchen and I was worried about the Sardino's soufflé and Julio was running around fixing the salads for the Morrison's so he wasn't able to help me take them out of the oven and you walked in and I was all panicked and you said, 'Sookie, you need a vacation!', and I tripped on the non-slip floor mat, which is really quite ironic if you think about it-"

Lorelai cuts her off. "Sookie. Abridged version please. I'm kinda in the middle of something and this is inching towards 'War and Peace' territory."

"In the middle of something? Where are you?"

Lorelai sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Outside of the diner."

At the squee that fills the line, Lorelai rolls her eyes glancing back to the diner again. This time Luke doesn't pretend to not be paying attention. He nods at her with his brows furrowed. He's asking if she's okay. She smiles at him assuredly and then turns back around trying to ignore the butterflies taking flight in her belly from the familiarity of it all. She hears Sookie's far off rambling and turns her attention back to the situation at hand.

"What am I going to be mad about, Sook?"

"Me and Jackson are taking a vacation. This weekend."

Lorelai smiles, relieved. "I'm not mad! I think it's gr-"

"You're coming too."

"Excuse me? Come again?"

"It was planned a long time ago and I never got to bring it up because, well, you and Chris started having trouble and it was all like, are they, aren't they ... It was going to be a surprise. You know, and then there was the ... the ..."

"Divorce. You can say it. Divorce. I got a divorce."

"Yeah, that." Sookie sighs. "Honey, I forgot. I forgot to cancel and it was going to be a couples thing. Jackson was really trying with Christopher, and we thought...you know. That it might be good to get out of Star's Hollow this summer."

Lorelai frowns. "I guess I'm missing something. Can't we just cancel? Or you can find someone else? Another couple?"

"Well..."

The hesitation makes her nervous and she sits down on the stairs of the gazebo. "Sookie?"

"It's too late to cancel. It's this weekend. It was Chris' idea. If I did all the planning and arranging, he'd pay for the whole thing. I, of course, objected, but it was going to be a late birthday present for you. He wanted the four of us to go away somewhere. So I found this beautiful little cottage and he called with his credit card and made the arrangements for this weekend. This was December. Those places fill up fast for the summer." She laughs nervously and Lorelai drops her head in understanding. Sookie finishes. "He paid. For the whole thing. We tried to object but ..."

"Sook-"

"He called me. They called him to remind him of his upcoming reservation and he called me and told me to go anyway. To maybe take you and get you out of here, I mean if you want. With Rory leaving, he thought it was a good idea. I still hate him a little, but it was nice. It's nice."

Lorelai smiles a little. "He's a putz but has his moments I suppose."

"We don't have to, just, back when we thought it was happening, Jackson called his mother to come stay with the kids that weekend. And she's coming, apparently whether we're here or not. And I'd rather it be not."

"Why don't you and Jackson just go and enjoy the weekend? It's fine. You have my blessing."

"Well, I knew you were going to say that but Jackson and I talked it over and we would feel more, you know, comfortable if you came along. With the whole money situation and everything. It's for your birthday afterall. It just feels like we're hijacking your vacation."

"There's no hijacking. I promise."

"We want you to come, Lorelai. It could be good for you to get out of here for a weekend. It's just two nights."

"I'm okay, I promise. I just don't want to be a third wheel on your vacation."

"No wheels! No wheels, I promise! Just beach and house and mocking of other vacationers guest book entries!"

"Going on a vacation with you and your husband will inevitably make me miss ... having someone to bicker with about the temperature of the room and who stole who's covers."

"Bring Luke!"

As if he could possibly hear from the diner, she bolts from her sitting position and walks a few steps further away from the man in question. "Absolutely not! We are so, oh, oh, not there yet. Hell, I don't even know if that's the destination both of us are going for at the moment."

"There was a kiss! That's something."

"That something is definitely not definitive enough for a vacation away to ... " She pauses, unsure.

"Martha's Vineyard." Sookie fills in with a grimace.

Lorelai's jaw drops. "Yeah. Not in a million years will that invite be sent."

"It could be so roman-"

"Absolutely not. Out of the question. He'd literally think I'd gone crazy. You remember the last time we went there."

"This will be nothing like Valentine's Day! Just a bunch of old buddies hanging out, playing cards."

"Playing cards?"

"It seemed beachy at the moment." Redirecting, Sookie plows on. "Maybe it's what you two need. Step away from the town and get back on track."

Lorelai laughs. "I can see his face now. Martha's Vineyard has far too heavy of a stigma attached to our relationship. There will be a Luke shaped hole in the wall and I'll be left alone. Again."

Sookie gives in. "Okay no Luke. I get it. Bad idea. But you? Will you come? I'm not above begging. Jackson won't go unless you do and I'm afraid a weekend with his mother may result in divorce."

"Sook-"

"For the sake of my marriage, just please think about it. It will be nice. And I'll owe you one. No two. I'll owe you two ... hundred favors."

Lorelai sighs. "I'll think about it."

Sookie's squeal at the other end prompts Lorelai to close her phone in defeat. It certainly wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to go to the beach for a weekend. She could write out a check to Christopher for the place and take a break from the craziness of the inn for a couple of days. And she likes Sookie and Jackson. The absence of their fourth may make her heart ache and it certainly wouldn't be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it may help her clear her head. Figure out what's been on her mind since the party last night: Does she really even _want_ to get involved with Luke again?

The highs are so high, but the lows ... she's not sure she's ever felt such hurt in her life.

She thinks back to their first trip to Martha's Vineyard. He had been so hell bent on having a miserable time at first. While, she loved Luke for everything he was, grump included, that weekend he was in rare form. Surpassing the norm, it was the first time she resented the way he could so easily bring her good mood down. How his yin could make her yang so out of whack. How miserable those months were. How much pain he had caused her. How quickly he could send her world crashing down. How much power love gave to the lover. It's not an easy pill to swallow.

But those arms. That strength he gives her. The way she can almost always make him laugh. How he makes her feel so good about herself and her life. How much she loves him. How much he loves her. How much he worries -

"Lorelai?"

His voice startles her and she turns around with her hand over her heart.

"Everything okay? Rory, she's okay?"

She melts a little. Smiles. "Everything's good. It was Sookie."

He smiles, relieved. "Coffee's getting cold." He gestures back to the diner.

She nods. "Can't have that now, can we?"

"Heaven forbid." He tries to be grumpy but his smile gives him away. He is just so _Luke._

They smile at each other for a few moments and Lorelai blushes. She laughs a little and Luke's smile gets wider. It all feels so familiar. It takes Lorelai back to a place where she was knocking things off tables and bumping into doors.

"Shall we?" she asks.

"After you," Luke returns.

**

* * *

**

It's funny how love is so similar to childbirth. Like nature makes you forget the pain it causes and you find yourself diving in all over again.

She watches Luke as he jots down things on the notepad and passes it to Caesar. The touch he has left on her heart is unmistakable. The feeling that consumes her now, this need to be close to him, it seems to overpower it all. All those feelings of hurt and resentment, all just seem to fade away when she's with him like this. Watching him work. The smiles he gives her when they meet eyes. The need for his touch comes back full force with each passing second. She just can't imagine her life without that touch.

"What did Sookie want? You looked a little concerned. Is it the inn?"

"Oh no. The inn is fine. I just think I'm somehow being roped into a vacation with her and Jackson this weekend."

"Oh?" It seems to peak his interest more than she would have liked. Disappointed almost.

It hits her then that he may have been anticipating them spending the weekend together. Or maybe taking her on a real date. Or setting aside time for a much needed talk. The words start flowing out in an attempt to salve his disappointed features.

"It's not something I am jumping up and down about, believe me. Her and Christopher had planned it for my birthday and now it's too late to back out. She's in a bit of an in-law pickle so she needs to make it happen. Jackson's mother is coming into town and I'm apparently the driver in the escape route. I mean, I love the two of them and everything, just, you know. A weekend. The three of us."

He smiles understandingly. "Third wheel?"

She nods. "Third wheel."

"So where's the tricycle headed?"

She suddenly lifts her cup to delay the answer. She brings the cup down with her eyes following. "Um, Martha's Vineyard, I think. Something like that," she rushes. She braves a glance back to his face and she can't quite read his expression.

"Be sure to warn them about the spermaceti." He jokes and smiles at her.

Relieved, she laughs. And glows. "I'll be sure to do that."

"I still got the freeze-dried spaghetti if you'd like to take it along, just in case."

"You're such a great ... " she pauses, panicked, unsure at how to finish. She tries to hide it with an only slightly delayed, "Man."

Luke is undeterred and that smile of his doesn't seem to be going any where, she notes with a smile of her own. "I do what I can."

She blushes again then, and she's glad she's sitting because all this smiling is really doing a number of her knees.

With the pretense of wiping the counter in front of her, he continues on. "It could be nice. Getting away from this town. Help you, you know, not think about things."

She looks at him surprised, and his warm smile makes her realize he's talking about Rory. She's nervous then, and the words just spill out without abandon. "You could come if you want."

Her filter is obviously severely broken and every nerve ending on her body stands up in panic when the words are left floating in the air. She's about to ask for a size nine shoe sandwich when he casually responds.

"Be your fourth, huh?"

She nods, unsure. She thinks those are the words that she had stupidly spit out.

"Sounds nice, Lorelai. If you're sure that is. I don't want to intrude."

Him saying her name that way and the general warmness of his voice chokes her up. His response has so surprised her, she thinks long before she speaks. Composing her words carefully.

"That would be nice. The four of us." She worries again that this is something he may feel roped into, so she gives him another out with a nervous laugh. "I mean, if you can get away from the diner for a whole weekend. It's such short notice-"

He cuts her off. "Not a problem."

"Well then. This will be ..." She searches for the appropriate word. She anxiously settles on, "Fun."

She knows that he knows she's nervous. And it almost annoys her that he isn't. Not at all.

He touches her then, causing a warmth to carry through every muscle in her body. His hand on hers. His voice low. "You sure?"

She smiles because she thinks she is. "Yeah. Just a bunch of friends hanging out, playing cards. Away from the town."

He can't seem to stop smiling. "Sounds nice."

"Nice." She has turned into a parrot. It's far too soon, but something about it feels right. The nervous energy spreads through her body like lightning and she reaches for the necklace with the hand the he's not covering.

"Even teams," he smiles.

She shakes her head trying to figure out what he's referring to. "Huh?"

He bows his head and laughs a little at her confusion. Looking up, he watches her play with the necklace. "For cards. Hard to play with three people." He meets her eyes again and pats her hand a couple of times, before removing it completely.

She smiles and wants to ask him why he's so sure about all this. How he's agreeing to this so easily.

"Even teams," she repeats with a smile. She realizes she now officially sounds like a love-struck fool.

Joe clears his throat and Luke realizes they have an audience and stands up straight, his face returning to his diner mask. It's Lorelai's turn to laugh now.

"You, um, ready for your check, Joe?"

Lorelai bows her head with a smile and clutches her phone anxiously. She needs perspective on the situation. She reaches in her purse and pulls out a five dollar bill, setting it on the counter.

Before Luke can protest, she says, "I'll call you tonight."

He nods, watching her go. "Have a good day, Lorelai."

She turns at the door. "You too, Luke." She says his name because she can. She walks backwards to the door, unwilling to be the first to look away.

They smile at each other for the millionth time that day and finally, Lorelai turns to go, walking directly into the door Kirk is opening at the precise moment.

"Lorelai!" Luke tries to warn.

She hits the door with a thud and puts her hand over her face, laughing. Not this again.

She turns back to Luke, who is looking on concerned. At her laugh, he smiles widely, again dropping his diner mask. She looks at him with pink cheeks and an embarrassed smile. "I'm good." And she motions to the door with her head.

He nods, still unable to wipe the smile from his face. She knows it's taking him back to a familiar time as well.

"Be careful!" She hears him yell playfully, and she thinks she may smile for the rest of her life.


	2. Touch 2

**Hi! Okay chapter 2. And this is really it this time. I just had to give them an ending. Seems open-ended stories bother me more than you! Thank you all for reading this stuff I write and seemingly enjoying it. Hope this is no exception. I just have never been extremely satisfied with the ending of GG, (shocker), and needed to get this out on paper. I've always had lots of feelings on Lorelai's romantic past and her inability to really commit to someone before Luke, only then for Luke to shut her out. It's tragic really. And not that I think she's blameless, but I do think that given proper perspective, it becomes a little more sad and less infuriating. (As a couple of brilliant authors have already pointed out in wonderful stories that definitely inspired this one.) Ah, okay enough exposition, here's my view inside Lorelai's head. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Telling Sookie had been a lot like sticking your head in a bridal suite minutes before a wedding. She still isn't quite sure she can register all of the normal frequencies any longer due to the leftover buzzing in her ears.

Then there is the stomach ache. The turning and rolling and general queasiness that she's left with. The questions and the fear that comes along with them. Namely, what does this all mean? Are they going to have it out over all the things that have transpired between them the past year? Will bringing up the past make him change his mind? Will it make her change hers?

And then there's the thing she can't stop thinking about. Where will they sleep? Sookie informed her excitedly that there were only two bedrooms. She less excitedly informed Sookie that she really didn't see them falling back into bed together just yet. No, not yet. While she would absolutely love to feel that closeness to him right now, it seems too much too soon. What she didn't say aloud is that she's scared. She's terrified. She's absolutely teeth-gnashing, toe curling, hair-raising scared to fall back into him. As thrilling as she knows that tight-rope walk would be, she'd like to be sure the net is in place before she goes across this time.

She really hates metaphors sometimes. Especially when they're so damn accurate.

So she finds herself shaking as she zips up her last suitcase and struggles to pull it outside of her room. It drags heavy behind her and she drops it with a huff as she approaches the stairs.

She hears Sookie's excited murmuring on her front porch and takes the moment to fix a smile on her face and push down any lingering acid that has unwillingly crawled up her throat.

"We're here!" Sookie announces as she and Jackson push through the front door.

"Woo!" Lorelai says with more enthusiasm than she realized she was capable of at the moment.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" Sookie squawks, as she claps her hands together.

"You ready Lorelai? Luke here yet?" Jackson says, squeezing his wife's shoulder happily.

At the mention of him, her stomach starts again. To squash it, she immediately puts her body in motion attempting to lift the bag once more.

"Almost. Just got one more bag."

Sookie looks on with concern. "Need some help, Sweetie?"

Lorelai manages a few words with her effort. "No. I'm - good. I - got - this."

"Jackson," Sookie says, nudging him.

"Yeah?" he asks

She tilts her head towards Lorelai a few times with wide eyes.

"What?" he asks, self-consciously.

Sookie huffs and mumbles through tight lips. "Help her."

"Heather?" he asks confused. "Who's Heather?"

Lorelai sets the bag on a step to rest. "I can hear you guys, you know. I can handle it."

She goes to pick it up again with a huff, stumbles a bit and then regains her footing. A new voice cuts through the room. "Looks like it."

Startled, she drops the bag and watches with a prolonged wince as it tumbles down the stairs loudly. It comes to a rest on the landing with a resounding thud.

She laughs nervously. "See? No problem."

Luke grimaces. "Sorry."

Sookie swipes Jackson's arm with the back of her hand.

"Ow! What did I do?"

"Here, I got it." Luke sets his own bags down and walks to the landing lifting Lorelai's fallen bag and setting it on solid ground.

"Thanks," she says descending the rest of the stairs, biting her lip.

"Didn't mean to startle you but maybe that was for the best. You looked like you were one wrong step away from tumbling down with it."

He's smiling a little and she falls into the role easily. "Psh. That thing? I totally had it under control."

His smile widens and Sookie looks on with a grin she can't hide. "Uh-huh," he says, unbelieving. "You wanna take it to the car then?"

She winks at him easily. "Aw, but you look so much prettier carrying heavy things than I do."

"Geez." He picks up the suitcase trying to bury the grin with an eyeroll.

The flirting comes easily, she realizes. With an audience anyway. She doubts she'd be quite as gratuitous with the flirting if it hadn't been for Sookie's encouraging smile in her peripheral vision.

"Okay let's go!" Sookie claps excitedly as Lorelai walks past her.

Lorelai startles at the loudness. "Easy Sook! Still early over here."

"Coffee's on the porch," Luke yells back as he crosses to the car.

Lorelai gasps excitedly and Sookie can't hold back anymore and widens her eyes to Lorelai, as if to say, "See!" She jumps a little in place barely holding in the glee.

Lorelai runs to the porch to confirm with her own eyes and sure enough, four Luke's cups in a holder sit unassuming on the porch.

She looks back to Luke with a wide smile as he loads the suitcase into the back of the SUV.

* * *

Jackson drives and Sookie sits shot-gun, leaving Luke and Lorelai alone in the backseat. His long legs hit the back of Sookie's but he looks comfortable, and dare Lorelai think, happy.

Lorelai's anxious energy has gone no where. She nearly bounces in her seat as they reach the highway.

With her Luke's cup firmly in one hand, she starts rooting through the bag at her feet for distraction. Sookie and Jackson go over the checklist of things needed for the kids while they are away and if Jackson's practiced "checks" are any indication, not for the first time. She begins pulling out a variety of foods - Combos, chocolate-covered pretzels, a wide variety of candy, marshmallows, 3 packets of Pop-tars, and an entire box of mallow mars. She hears a familiar grunt beside her and smiles.

"That bag is like a clown car."

She looks up at him with a smile. "I only brought the necessities."

"Necessities for quick cardiac arrest?"

Her stomach flutters at the familiar grumpiness.

She waves the bag of chocolate pretzels in front of him with a knowing smile. "I intend to share."

He hesitates, looking at the chocolate pretzels. His hands reaches for them. "Oh, what the hell." He opens them and her smile grows. He grunts again. "It's for your own good."

"Uh huh." She nods, allowing his reasoning with a smirk. "You're so thoughtful."

He turns his attention to her again just long enough to meet her eyes. The smile on his face is one she hasn't seen in a long time. Wide, happy, child-like. "I do what I can." He pops a pretzel in his mouth.

Sookie turns in her seat, apparently satisfied with the results of the checklist.

"Road food!"

"You know it. What's your poison?"

"Got any gummy bears?"

She returns to the bottomless bag in front of her. Luke rolls his eyes. She pulls out a bag handing it to an impressed Sookie. "But of course!"

"Unbelievable," Luke mummers as he pops another pretzel in his mouth.

Sookie excitedly takes them offers some to Jackson. "You're the best road trip buddy ever."

Lorelai winks at Luke and reaches for some Pop-tarts.

* * *

When they had gotten to the cabin, it had been a familiar scene. Lorelai and Sookie had run around excitedly looking at the house with excited giggles while Luke and Jackson had unloaded the car with grunts and subtle smiles at the two girls' behavior.

Jackson small talked about the weather and Luke grunted along as he discussed how perfect the temperature was to plant his new blueberry bushes. Luke had absently nodded in agreement.

When Lorelai and Sookie had sobered and returned to the men, Lorelai had noticed Luke had placed his small duffle bag beside the couch, pushed slightly out of view, and her bags were placed neatly in one of the bedrooms.

It felt odd but she knew an argument over who got the bed was futile and possibly inviting an awkward conversation to take place, so she said nothing.

When Sookie had dragged Jackson to the window and started "ohh"ing and "ahh"ing over the view with her hand firmly on his elbow, Lorelai and Luke had stood behind somewhat awkwardly watching the two of them.

It had sent a shooting pain into Lorelai's stomach at the reminder of their current situation. She had to physically hold herself back from pulling Luke up beside them and sharing in the moment. It hadn't felt right and Luke had seemingly the same thoughts as he had excused himself to the bathroom when the air had become a little too thick with regret.

And that's where it started, Lorelai guesses. Where the comfort had eased back into the awkward insecurities of whether this was the best idea after all.

Now he is sleeping on the couch less than 20 feet away. Two wood-paneled walls separate them. A door, a hall, an emotional minefield. A year of mistakes and regrets and pain and sorrow.

She can't sleep.

She wants him here beside her. She wants to burrow into his warm side and slide her increasingly cold feet between his warm ones. He'd complain but never put up a fight. He'd wrap his arm around her back and pull her closer. She figures she'd probably fall asleep in a flash with him beside her. She can think of nothing more comfortable.

She wants him back in Star's Hollow far away from her. She wants him out of her life and be able to move on. She wants to be mad at him to make it easier for her to forget.

She wonders if she's ever felt such a disconnect in emotional and physical needs in her entire life.

She can almost literally feel the subconscious, self-preserving walls being constructed around her heart. She can nearly taste the ache in her mouth.

She tosses. She turns. She tries desperately to remember the good times. When she would come home and he'd be making her dinner and welcome her with a small kiss. Watching movies. Giddy with love.

But now she can't stop doubting that anything she ever knew was real. She sees him hiding something beneath the surface. All those months of hiding something from her. Something big. Even memories she knows should not be tainted, are. In them his face painted with disinterest, distaste.

She knows that in a disembodied moment of weakness, she can allow herself to feel the love he gave her. She's remembered them since. Been able to feel feel his love. Tonight in this bed however, she can't find them. Every look has something beneath. Something unsure. Something that makes her doubt its sincerity. Every touch she can remember is hesitant. Awkward.

She wants to remember the beginning and the end of the fall of their relationship. Its demise was so torturously slow, like a disease eating your insides. A room with an air conditioner that you never notice is on until it's not. Only then the presence is felt. Only in its absence.

Every piece of her heart, that she had spent so many years protecting, had been slowly slipped from her without her noticing. Little aches started to appear at some point, but she can't be sure when.

She wishes she could isolate the pain, put borders around it and say, "This is when it started. This is when is stopped." Bury that portion and remember to forget it.

Such is not the case. It seems to bleed further into the past than she knows it truly goes. Every memory is stamped with it. Bleeds too far into the present. Tainting every thought of the future.

And what happened far surpassed what words could describe appropriately.

The breaking of hearts.

When she thinks about that phrase, she can't help but think what an overused, insignificant phrase that it has become. It sounds like something modern medicine can fix. It is nothing but a commonly accepted personified version of this all-encompassing feeling we have. A personification that doesn't do justice to the feeling of pure desperation, sadness, loss we feel. Something so intangible it almost becomes tangible again. And yet we use it because it's all we have and all we can use to explain these huge indescribable feelings that course through us. How can we use such a small word, five letters, to try and explain such a large thing? A heart. Really is that all it is?

Maybe that phrase lends to the belief that losing love only hurts that small fraction of your being. That beating drum in your chest. Maybe if they had been more concerned with breaking each other and not just the drum box, maybe then things would have been different.

Maybe then they would have understood. Maybe then they would have planted their feet in deeper. Hung on tighter. Fought for their lives.

She never put much stock into the "It's better to have loved and lost," saying. She never considered it true.

For years she had ended things when her heart started getting involved. A painful defense mechanism. "It's better to never have loved at all," her brain thought with finality.

But with Luke things had been different. She had fought the feelings with the mantra, "It's right, it's right, it's right."

Everyone chanted along with her daily. Rory, Sookie, Luke. Babette, Patty, Lane.

It became a truth to her. All she knew. She had discovered the strength of the heart over the brain. She had finally overcome.

Then she woke up one day and there was a hole where the nagging heart had once been and her brain fought back the pain with "I told you so," chants.

The battle exhausts her as it flames anew. Exhausts her not to sleep, but to delirium. Exhausts her to the point where she can't remember him adoring her and she can't remember looking at him without the nauseating weakness of helplessness.

She can't remember love that wasn't given as a perfunctory measure because it's what couples did. It's what they needed. She can't remember doing things because they wanted to.

It's a terrible sadness that she has pushed through her veins. That her restless brain has pumped through her heart. A remission to days where her brain had won every battle. To days where her heart stood low behind the overpowering reason that her brain spouted.

She feels her heartbeat increase and nearly smiles when she thinks that maybe the heart is in more control than just being the personification of a feeling.

It's beating rapidly as if it's preparing for battle. And as she lays buried under the sheets and blankets and roof and clouds of misery, she hopes it is.

Because even though she can't see it, she knows it's there. She knows she was happy in love at one time. She knows that it made her stronger, better, more powerful. She knows she was happy. She knows there was real love exchanged. She knows that he had shown her that he was in love with her. She knows that, although she can't see it clear, it was there.

She gasps then, allowing too much oxygen to her brain, and with the steady thumping in her chest she sits up as the anxiety attack takes hold. She holds her throat, trying to steady her breathing. She tries to relax the muscles that tighten throughout her body in high alert. She tries to coax herself out of this paralyzing event that had become all too common in her life as of late.

She remembers Christopher waking up sleepily and realizing immediately that she was not okay. He'd jumped into action rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back, asking if it was a bad dream, if she was okay, if she needed to go to the hospital. She remembers that he was panicky and the feeling of his hands only increased her heart rate and she'd pushed him away. She wouldn't look at him because she didn't want to see the pained rejection in his expression.

She had eventually calmed and apologized and said it was a bad dream and that she can't stop having anxiety attacks. He had meekly, and with a hint of fear in his voice, asked if they were new. Without words, asking if they were because of him. Because of who he wasn't. She'd lie and say no, they had been happening for a couple of years, and he had visibly relaxed and then asked her what she needed. Water seemed to help. As if the liquid pouring down her throat would remind her that it wasn't closed up and that she could breath and that everything would be okay.

And so it went. And she dealt with them and whenever it would happen, he would wake up, keeping his distance, watching in fear, and then without uttering a word, retrieve her a glass of water.

They never discussed them again because she didn't want to talk about it and he didn't want to know.

She steadies her breathing then and the slight dizziness that comes is expected and she closes her eyes focusing on the one thing that seems to help: the soft snores wafting through the two wood paneled walls, the door, the hallway, the emotional minefield of pain.

She needs water then. And a psychologist, she thinks wryly.

She creeps down the hallway, pushed on by the soft snores that assure her he's asleep.

She reaches into the unfamiliar cabinet and grabs a cup filling it with water. She won't allow her eyes to look at him, but when she tips the cup up, she claims the small glance is accidental. And then she can't take her eyes away.

The ticking of the clock and the residual shakiness of her attack lull her into a trance. Watching his chest rise and fall. The simple rhythm of his breathing seems to help more than any amount of water so she watches him. She forgets about the water, setting the cup on the counter, and walks slowly towards him without abandon or fear of being discovered.

She quietly bends down sitting on the floor beside the couch before she can talk herself out of it. She roots herself there trying to ignore the voice in her head that tells her this is an exceedingly bad idea. That it is bordering on crazy. She tells herself that the eyes she needs to see are behind closed lids and it's a futile attempt to capture what she's lost, but she can't look away. He looks so peaceful. So relaxed. The stubble on his face holds more grey than she recalls. There are lines on his face that are new. Ones that match hers, she smiles tearfully.

They have certainly done a number on each other. She just wants it to all go away. She wants to be able to crawl in beside him put her head on his chest and have him look at her to make her remember. She really needs to be reminded why she needs to do this. She needs to remember what she's fighting for. She wants to feel it again. Assurance for her heart. Assurance that the battle is worth it.

Why can't she remember?

She knows he's a light sleeper so doesn't risk touching him, but she lays her forehead on the couch beside his sleeping form and closes her eyes. I'll just stay for another minute, she thinks to herself. Just another few minutes, as the calmness finally starts settling into her bones. Just a few more.

The touch is tentative and familiar all at once. Through the hair, pushing it to the side, resting on her neck. The hand is warm and shaky. Resting on her neck, slowly massaging her awake.

"Sookie and Jackson will be awake soon." She hears him whisper through the vestiges of her sleep.

The sun is coming up and she wishes it was the sun causing the warmth in her cheeks now. For all intents and purposes, she holds back from muttering the "Busted" she feels.

"Lorelai?" he whispers again gently.

"I'm sorry," she mutters without moving her head, sleepiness in her voice.

His grip loosens a little and he rubs his thumb gently into her skin.

"It's okay." His voices falters a little.

She's not ready to look at him so she remains, finding comfort in his gentle touch.

"Couldn't sleep."

"You don't have to explain."

She wants to and doesn't all the same.

"Sorry," she says again. A little stronger. A little more awake. Still unmoving.

His touch remains patient, gentle. She feels tears pricking her eyes so she squeezes them tightly.

She finally raises her head, his hand falling away. She smiles tightly. Embarrassed, tired, weary.

She takes in the room around her. Unfamiliar, comfortable The man in front of her. Watching her steadily. Not wavering. She knows he's watching her. Watching as she tries to decide where to look. She knows he's watching so she finally settles on his face. His eyes specifically. Eyes boring into her. And beyond the sheen of worry, of compassion, behind the sleepiness that remains there, she sees traces of the look she's been struggling to remember. Deep in his gaze, she sees what's always been there. She sees what she can only personify as his heart.

With a relief she can't hide, she calms, knowing undoubtedly that her eyes reflect more of the same.

Something deep within her settles in the moment. It's right in front of her now. She feels the blood starting to pump more frantically through her veins. Embarrassment has turned into something entirely different. He smiles and she realizes he's mirroring her own expression. She laughs then. At the situation. At the pink adorning her face. At the compassion adorning his. At the moment that has just happened. At the ease in which she has been reassured. At the feeling of her heart pumping furiously fighting for its life again. She laughs because it's such a relief and everything is always easier in the light of morning.

He's smiling still, watching her curiously. He's not in on the joke, but he smiles all the same. So relieved, she's pretty sure he doesn't even care what has brought on the laughing that has nearly caused tears to stream down her face.

And he doesn't ask and she's almost grateful for that because she's not sure how to find the words to explain. But her confidence has been reignited and she hasn't felt this sure in a long time.

She grabs his hand, wrapping both of hers tightly around it.

"I'm really glad you're here," she says finally reclaiming her breath.

He squeezes her hand in return. Smiling. "Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

She's so overwhelmed by all she wants to say, she quakes trying to find the words. "God, Luke. Me either."

It's an exchange so laden with meaning, the smiles slip from both of their faces as they hold each others hands tightly.

Sookie and Jackson's door opens and Luke tries to pull his hand away but Lorelai doesn't release it.

"I don't care," she says with a smile. "I'm not ready to let go yet."

He smiles a little then, staying put, squeezing her hand assuringly.

Sookie's eyes widen at the sight but she quickly turns towards the kitchen playing oblivious. "Good morning guys!"

With her back to them she mouths to Jackson excitedly, "Oh my god!"

Jackson shares in her excitement and opens his mouth, but Sookie stops him from saying anything with a look.

"Morning Sook," Lorelai says calmly, winking at Luke with a smile.

He rolls his eyes smiling.

"We're just going to run out and get breakfast. Any requests?"

"Coffee. And lots of it," Lorelai says without missing a beat.

Sookie laughs. "Already on the list. You ready, Jackson?"

"I thought we were cooki-"

A swift elbow to the gut stops his words sharply.

"Yep. All ready," he says grimacing.

Sookie pulls him outside.

"You've really got to stop doing that," Jackson says, rubbing his stomach.

Back inside, Lorelai smiles. "We should get up."

"One, two, three?" Luke asks.

"My foot's asleep," Lorelai confesses with a grin. "I may need some help."

Luke feigns an annoyed sigh so weak that Lorelai almost misses it. They both are fully aware annoyance is the furthest feeling from his mind at the moment. He sits up and helps her up. She limps a step or two, holding onto his arm, before giving in completely. She turns into him suddenly, wrapping her arms around his mid section and resting her head under his chin. He embraces her immediately, his arms wrapping her shoulders tightly. He falls into her with the same relief she feels. She squeezes tight, as if pure force will meld them into one.

It's unbelievably overwhelming being in his arms again. So much so, that she can't say anything just yet. She just holds onto him. He runs his hands slowly back and forth across her back.

She fits perfectly into him the way she used to. With a breath, she relaxes into him soaking every ounce of comfort from the embrace that she can. With her arms wrapped tightly around him, she thinks of the past year and holds him tighter. She takes every bit of comfort that he's offering her. Hugs him for all the times that she couldn't in the past year. For all the nights she had laid in bed crying over him. Apologizing to him over and over in her mind. Every stroke of his arm offers much of the same and she stands there, overwhelmed and comforted and the love she can feel from just his arms, pulses through her.

It's nothing short of everything she'd been hoping for. His arms feel like home. Like she's finally returned home after a tumultuous journey.

"Hey Luke?" She finally finds her voice, muffled from his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Fair warning?" He nods and she can feel the movement so she continues. "I'm pretty emotional at the moment." She laughs a little and then sniffles as proof of her statement.

She feels him take a deep, shaky breath and tries to soothe him using the only thing loose enough that's allowed movement, Her thumbs. "Just didn't want to freak you out."

He holds her tighter. Sways a little with emotion. "I'm not freaked out."

She gives as much of a nod as the small space allows. Pausing. Feeling. Finally saying, "Okay."

"Okay," he returns.

She hears the small crack in his voice that tells her he's as overwhelmed as she is. He shifts his head down so his cheek rests beside her head. He whispers so quietly she's not sure she was suppose to have heard him. But she has and the tears fall a little faster then.

"Me too," she mouths silently, burrowing even closer to him. "Me too." The words never leaving her lips.

And they remain, unwavering, in their embrace.

* * *

"Three of a kind!"

Lorelai knows that generally she'd be more upset that she's not winning, but she can't focus on much right now. Luke's knee is rested against hers under the table and a few minutes ago, when she had laughed at Sookie and Jackson's bickering, he had nudged it with a smile and grabbed her hand. Immediately her insides got all fluttery and a wide smile broke across her face while she pretended to focus on her cards. They hadn't stopped touching since the embrace in the living room that morning.

When Sookie and Jackson had returned, they had found them in the kitchen, Luke preparing coffee and Lorelai sitting on the counter beside him with a smile that surely spoke volumes of what had transpired. She's sure it reflected the relief that she felt. The happiness. The peace. After so many months without it, she figures it was painfully obvious. She had seen her reflection in the window and it startled her at how different she looked. How different he looked.

Before Sookie and Jackson had walked in, Luke had been resting his hand just above her knee as they talked about Rory, April, coffee, nothing, everything. He had busied himself pouring cups of coffee for the three of them when Sookie and Jackson had made their embarrassingly loud entrance to the cottage, an entrance obviously serving as a "We don't want to interrupt anything" warning. Neither of them commented on the fact that Luke had failed to mention he had brought his own coffee and the paper cups were left on the counter forgotten. It didn't go by Lorelai that he had taken up residence leaning on the counter beside her. His side touching her legs dangling from the counter. Whether he realized it or not, he was by her side all morning. Constantly being there in a way she welcomed. She wondered if he was offering her assurance or himself. She didn't care. The wordless moment had broken the dam and neither could get enough.

She never remembered feeling like this. Not even after their first reconciliation did touching mean so much. Seem so important. Heal so much.

She's giddy and feels like a teenager secretly holding hands underneath the table, but it's nice. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. They had never really held hands like this before. Every now and again, they would clasp hands, but almost always it was in a movement. To lead the other one somewhere. To pull him to her bedroom. Him pulling her away from the coffee maker or stove or other device she would be attempting to use. But never in such calmness of a moment. It suits him, she thinks and she takes in the smile that hadn't budged since he had grabbed her hand.

"That's it. You're cheating!"

Sookie frowns. "Jackson, I'm not! Face it, I'm better than you."

"You didn't even know how to play this game thirty minutes ago!"

"I must just be a natural at poker," Sookie says with awe in her voice.

"And you two!" Jackson turns to Lorelai and Luke accusingly. "You two haven't even played a hand in the past 10 minutes! You keep folding everything!"

"We are both beating you though so our strategy seems to be working," Lorelai remarks with a hint of teasing in her voice. She throws a wink to Sookie for good measure.

Jackson turns a few different shades of red. "Fine. I'm dealing."

Sookie laughs and Jackson glares at her. She smothers it as best she can and gives him a pseudo all-business look.

Lorelai folds immediately.

Jackson snaps his head to her. "Did you even look at them?"

"Of course I did! I just don't have any pretty colored ones."

Jackson turns his attention to Luke. "Does she even know how to play?"

Luke glances at Lorelai shortly, unsure of how to answer. "Um, I think so."

Jackson sighs. "Go ahead, fold. I know you're going to."

Luke slowly folds then, a little fearful of the wrath of Jackson.

"Look at her cards."

"What?"

"Look at Lorelai's cards. I want to know if she knows how to play."

"Hey! Those are my cards!"

"I just want to see if you know how to play. And since Luke here just folded as well, neither of you are in play, so I just want him to check."

"Fine." She pushes her cards towards Luke and squeezes his hand under the table.

He flips them over and smothers his smile. He returns the squeeze under the table.

"So?"

"She knows how to play. When the cards aren't coming, the cards aren't coming. What are you gonna to do?"

Lorelai smiles. "See."

"Fine." Jackson huffs. "I call."

"Raise!" Sookie says excitedly.

Luke's thumb starts to gently stroke up and down the base of her thumb as the arguing continues. She sneaks a peek over to him and he's watching her unabashedly. He smiles.

"Two pair! I win again! Oh this is so much fun. Are you guys having fun?"

The words float through the air and her brain is slow to process them. She snaps out of it and notices Sookie smiling at her. Even Jackson has a bit of a smirk as he tries to act nonchalant looking at his cards. A blush flirts on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Sookie smiles. "All the answer I need."

Lorelai cocks her head a little confused but grins nonetheless. Luke squeezes her hand again.

"Deal 'em up ... " Sookie stumbles searching for the word. "You dealer, you!"

Jackson sighs but does what he's told. Luke looks at his cards and quietly folds once more. Not surprisingly, Lorelai follows suit. Sookie pushes all her chips in the pot and Jackson glares at her. She smiles and looks down at her cards.

"When the cards are coming, the cards are coming."

Jackson looks down at his head and glares at his wife. "Fine, you wanna play that way. I call!" He throws his cards on the table. "I got the cowboys." The ladies look at him questioningly and he sighs, laying down his two Kings.

Sookie lays down her first card, a four, and then lays down an Ace.

"A-ha! I knew you couldn't be getting good hands every time. This time you've dug you're own grave woman."

Sookie and Lorelai share a look.

Jackson takes the deck and begins to lay down the first three cards. A five, Jack, and nine.

Jackson puts on his best Sookie voice, "When the cards are coming, the cards are coming."

"Honey, I don't know if playing cards together is really something that is going to strengthen our relationship."

"I feel plenty strong right now!"

Sookie, Luke, and Lorelai smother their laughter. The next card is a four.

"Woo!" Sookie jumps out of her chair. "That's good!" She turns to Luke, "That's good right?"

He nods.

Jackson gives her a withering look. "I still have you beat! And last card," he flips the last card and stares at it unbelieving.

Sookie jumps back out of her chair and pushes her arms into the air. "Victory!" She runs around the table back to her seat pulling all of Jackson's chips to her. "Three fours! That beats your Rangers ass!"

"Cowboys," Jackson mutters, still shocked.

Sookie spreads her arms widely. "And that, my friends, is how you play poker!"

"Unbelievable!"

"Ladies one, men zero!" She gives Lorelai a high five.

Jackson's face turns many shades of red. "It's not a team game!"

Sookie tries to hide her smile. "Honey, you played a really good game."

He tries to bury his anger. "Thank you, Sookie."

"But not good enough because I kicked your ass!" She points at him in exclamation.

"That's it! I'm going to bed!" Jackson storms out of the room.

Sookie watches him go with a smile. "I love that man."

Lorelai laughs. "You got a lot of unemasculating to do tonight."

"Totally worth it," Sookie says with a grin. "Plus, I win twice!"

Sookie high fives Lorelai.

Luke bristles. "Man still in the room over here."

Lorelai and Sookie laugh.

"Okay, I'm going to go check on him,."

"Good luck!" Lorelai says as Sookie follows her husband out of the room.

"Jackson!"

Lorelai smiles, watching her go. Luke squeezes her hand and she looks back to him. He's watching her intently and she lowers her eyes briefly self-consciously, but then raises them back to him. All is silent, minus the muffled talking from the bedroom down the hall.

She's not sure what to say or where to start, but in the moment, she's content just holding his hand and feeling this closeness that's she's missed so much.

She takes in his face, his small smile, his beautiful eyes. She allows herself to remember the good times they had together and the moments that truly made her once believe that he was it for her. She smiles at him and he begins rubbing her hand with his thumb.

She goes somewhere else then, somewhere she's all too used to going in this past year. Like a defense mechanism that hasn't learned to stop mechanizing, she remembers those months where she had truly and utterly felt alone. The days where he made her feel no less important than a Nicole: a woman who he wouldn't fully commit to, despite the ring on her finger. He must notice because his smile falters and feeling caught, she ducks her head a little, almost angry at her own motions and her inability to stay in the moment.

He squeezes her hand. "Well that was fun."

God bless the man. Trying to lighten the mood. Trying to pull her from whatever black hole she had stumbled into. Trying. And that was something.

Lorelai smiles at the remark but it falters a little, feeling the swell of words lodging in her throat. The pure and simple need to talk to this man, to hear him give her some sort of reassurance that will make all these feelings go away. It's a tall order, she knows. But she needs something else at this moment or she's scared she'll continue this habit of hers pretending all is okay and happy. How quickly she has found herself in this position once more. The terror she feels once again at saying something that's too much too soon. Reminding him of her actions. Fearful that nothing has really changed at all. At her sudden change of attitude, Luke squeezes her hand.

She takes a deep breath. "I don't know why I invited you." At the admission, she dares a glance towards his face. He's an unwavering vision of stability in his emotions. Nodding along with her. Encouraging her to go on. "I'm really not sure this will work again."

"I want it to," he says, squeezing her hand again.

It's a huge admission she realizes. Him making his intentions clear. She wants to smile and wishes she could just end it there and say 'Me too' and they'd get up and go to bed, together at last. Instead, she bows her head nervously. "When I was with Christopher," she glances towards him to see his reaction. To gauge whether to go on. She does. "There were days were I thought, maybe, just maybe, this is how it was always supposed to be."

"Yeah?"

She nods. "Yeah." She looks down at their entwined hands. "It was always days when we wouldn't really see each other much and he'd call the inn saying he's running late and we'd discuss what to have for dinner. He'd say, 'You want me to pick up something on the way home?' Home. And Gigi always was such a picky eater, he'd always bring home something she didn't like but I would know that, I would expect that. Because it's Christopher, and not that he's a bad father to her, but he doesn't always remember to think past who ever he is speaking with at the moment. And I'd have Sookie make some mac and cheese and hotdogs for her and then when we'd all get to my house and Gigi would refuse to eat the take out from whatever fancy restaurant Christopher had chosen, he'd always say, 'But it's from the kids menu. I thought for sure she'd eat it.' And I'd make up some excuse for having the mac and cheese and hotdogs on hand, it was always 'leftovers,' I'd tell him. And she'd get so excited and hug me and thank me. She was many things, but thankful, usually not one of them.

"And Christopher would say something like, 'See Lorelai, this is why I need you around.' And we'd all be smiles and we'd eat and everybody would be content in the moment and we'd ask Gigi about her day. It just seemed normal I guess. Made it feel like this was all part of a bigger plan to just be there. I don't know, it just felt like maybe constant happiness was just unachievable. Something no one really ever gets. Like us," She squeezes his hand. "It felt like with us, it was ups and downs, admittedly mainly ups, but those downs, they were like 20,000 leagues down. But with him, in moments like that, it was like a steady okay. Just not extremely happy, not extremely sad, just there. Just okay, and you know, that'd be it. Forever. Just existing and never having to deal with the immense heartbreak but maybe not as happy as I could be, but there it was. And it would make me incredibly sad to think about it. That maybe that's just what the heart can take. The constant okay. And that's how it's supposed to be. That all the movies and books and songs that I've watched and read and listened to my entire life, were all an illusion. Sad, huh?"

"What were other moments like?"

"Honestly?" He nods. "Surreal. Just like I had stepped into an alternate universe where I didn't live in my house. It didn't even seem like my house. It was like I was constantly a guest. We lived in a constant purgatory of just being still. It never felt right to make any forward moves. And he wanted to. You know, buy a new house, have more kids. Something to get us out of that place. But it all happened so fast and it seemed out of my control and the only word I could say was 'no' to keep things where they were. Somehow it just seemed like I was trapped and 'no' was the one thing I had control over. I just needed a constant. Even if it wasn't all I had ever dreamed about, it was there and dependable. And it was fine.

"When we'd sit down at dinner, he'd really look at me and I could tell he really loved me. I was never afraid of disappointing him. He knew everything about me. Every terrible thing I had done. Even the things I had done to him. And still, he'd just have this constant look in his eyes like he really loved me. So no, I was never worried I'd disappoint him."

He takes it in and squeezes her hand again, seemingly already knowing the answer to his next question. "And with me? Were you scared to disappoint me?"

"Constantly. I constantly worried I was going to disappoint you. And not because of anything you have ever done or said, but when I looked at me through your eyes, I'd see someone who wasn't really me. Someone who was perfect and could never really let you down. And I knew it wasn't true, but loved that you saw me like that. So I tried to be that person. Tried really hard. Eventually, nature won out obviously. I'm Lorelai Gilmore. Nothing if not a disappointment. But the me that I saw when you looked at me, I liked that me. I wanted more than anything to be that person. But when I was with him, it was almost like I could finally stop pretending. I could be the screw-up I've always been and he'd be right there in this universe of okay."

Luke clears his throat and brushes her hand with his thumb in the silence that results from her confession. He finds his voice and it cuts through the air. "I probably look at you that way because I do. I think you are pretty perfect."

She looks up with him, eyes glazed with tears, and laughs. It's a laugh that is unmistakable for one filled with self-loathing. "I'm better than I thought."

He smiles firmly. "You really, really are."

She takes his seriousness and bows her head again with a sad smile. "No, I mean better at convincing you. I thought for sure you'd have figured it out by now, but clearly, you are still a bit delusional. I will always carry around my emotional baggage, and who knows, maybe you will always be Luke 'table-for-one' Danes." She looks back up at him. "And this is why I have reservations."

Luke takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, careful to not disengage their hands in the process. He holds on tight and she's glad he is because she's scared she'd let them slip apart if it weren't for his effort.

"I'm looking for someone who makes me want to be a better guy. Someone who knows when I need space and knows when I just am scared to ask for someone to stick around. I need someone who makes me smile and knows exactly how to make me laugh and can help me be a happier person. Someone who that when I look at them, all I can see is the rest of our lives. And someone who, despite years of believing otherwise, makes me feel that being alone is lonely.

"Someone who I never ever want to be without because they make me a better person every time I look them. To me, that is my perfect woman. You are my perfect woman. And I love you." He takes a deep breath and hers gets caught in her chest somewhere. He meets her eyes. "I don't say that enough." He corrects himself, "Didn't say that enough, but it's true and I intend on telling you that for as long as you'll have me in your life."

She has started to cry she realizes as he finishes what has now become her favorite rant she's ever heard from this man.

He leans forward again with an intensity she's not sure she's ever seen him wear. "You're it for me Lorelai. Whether you realize it or not, you are the one for me. And I can't promise that I will never look at you like you are perfect, because to me, for me, you are."

She's so overwhelmed, she can't really form any words. But that's okay because she's not sure she would say anything that would even come close to making him understand how she feels right now. So instead, she unravels their hands and places them gently on his face. She takes her thumbs and caresses his eyebrows and down the sides of his eyes. Taking the moment to really touch him. To study this man in front of her professing his love of her. Staring at every move her hands make. She goes over and over his cheeks, and finally down to his mouth.

"I can't believe-" she starts, but stops. "Really?" she asks, finding his eyes.

He smiles and her heart flutters at the sight. "I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life."

"I'm really scared," she confesses. "Really, really scared."

"Me too," she hears him say. "But I don't want to live in a world where 'okay' is the best it gets."

"Me either."

"I want to be the guy that gives you the happily ever after from the movies, books, music that you love. I can be that guy, I know I can."

"You think we can make this work this time?"

"I know that if we don't try, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I already regret the last two years and I am tired of regretting things that I haven't even tried to change."

"You're really sure of this."

"I'm really, really sure of this. All I know is that when I have spent time with April these past two years, it's been some of the happiest times I've had and there's still been something missing. I want you there. I need you there. I want us to start over, from the beginning or from somewhere in the middle, where we were happy, because god knows Lorelai, we were happy."

She stops then, thinking, wondering, wanting to stop the moment there because it's perfect but her brain needs one last assurance. "Do you understand what happened to us? What happened to me?"

"Do you think I'd be here if I didn't?"

"Do you think back to what happened to us and think I set out to hurt you?"

"I think you were set out to hurt yourself. And you did a damn good job of it."

"Do you trust me?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about what happened to us and like I said before, I wouldn't be here if I didn't." He pauses, looking at her. "Do you trust me?" he counters.

"I-" She wants to say, _"Yes, absolutely." _She wants to soothe the worried features on his face that grow deeper with each passing second. She wants to say, _"Yes"_ and punctuate this momentous occasion with a kiss for history books. But she finds that her stubborn brain won't allow the words to come out and her face falls.

"It's okay." He says.

"There's this battle I have," she starts to explain. "My entire life it's been my brain versus my heart and my heart," she reaches out and touches his. "My heart trusts you. My heart is here with you. My heart tells me that everything you just said can be our new foundation and our new beginning. But my brain tells me to run the other way. Let's face it, my brain always tells me to run the other way. It is scared and says that the risk is not worth the pain."

"I know this is going to sound cheesy but I think it's time you follow your heart."

He looks at her then with a resolve across his features and leans in and places his lips gently on hers. Kisses her softly, igniting a thousand sparks throughout her body. Her heart beats loudly in her chest and he continues on, kissing her till they are both out of breath and leans his forehead against hers.

"Your brain tells you that 'Okay' is the best it can get. I know better. I know what we have here and I don't want to lose that. Please trust me Lorelai."

She smiles softly. "We'll start with her heart and work on the brain?"

"I can do that."

"My heart appreciates that."

"What's your brain thinking now? Still want to run?"

She takes his hand and places it over the center of her chest. "You feel that?" Luke smirks and she laughs. "No the other that."

He smiles as her heart beat soundly against his palm. "Your heart."

"Every time you touch me that happens."

He rubs his thumb gently back and forth on her chest.

"I don't think my heart wants to be just okay anymore." She smiles. "And I think my brain is finally in agreement."

"Oh yeah?" He smiles. "What's your brain saying now?"

"To run."

He looks at her in confusion.

She smiles coyly. "To run straight into the bedroom and-"

He laughs cutting her off, the blush tinging his cheeks. "Okay." They both sober and he runs his fingers down her cheek gently. "That's a good start, I guess."

"I do want this Luke. I really do. I love you and want this to work. I want to be happy and you make me happy."

"Is it really that simple?"

"I think it's a damn good start."

She starts a slow backwards walk towards her bedroom.

"I'm coming too?" Luke asks, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.

Lorelai laughs. "Oh yeah you are."

And it's more than just a reconciliation that night for Lorelai. It's a war won after many battles lost. And later, when her heart begins to cower, she kisses him and remembers every curve of his mouth. Pulls his body to her as a blind woman hoping to memorize it all. A life marching in time with the steady beating of her heart.


End file.
